Finals, feta and a farewell to summer: PART 1
So it seems once again, time has run away with itself, leaving me in a somewhat bewildered state as I ponder over the realisation that next week marks the beginning of the end. It seems odd that next week will be the last time I make my way to the Midlands in my mother’s inevitably overloaded 20-something-year-old Merc that all those years ago bizarrely enough picked me up from the hospital. To be quite honest, it doesn’t seem all that long ago when I was making my first journey up to Warwick as a bright-eyed fresher whose mind was battling a whirlwind of emotions as I found myself in that liminal and amalgamated state of excitement, fear and uncertainty brought about by the unknown. In fact, four years later as I begin prepping myself for my final return to university with some preparatory reading, my emotions are still just as contorted…
What’s more, how on earth has this summer flown past so quickly? I think that despite it almost taking me the entirely of the summer holidays to recover from the stresses of last exam season (much of which was self-inflicted and combined with copious amounts of Lussana drama) I think I can finally admit to having reached that blissful and eagerly anticipated state of relaxation a few weeks ago.
Squeezing in a few weeks of Mediterranean sun, powering through about five pieces of fiction a week, whilst eating my bodyweight in prickly pears alongside my adopted friend Nikos and a view to die for.
After what had been a rather challenging year to put it mildly for all the Lussanas, it was a unanimous decision to escape to the tranquil oasis that is the Cyclades Greek island of Tinos for some much needed R&R. Tranquil, that is, once we actually made it to this rather unspoilt and undiscovered Greek gem. In actual fact, the night before our supposed departure, as my mother and I arrived in A&E at approximately 1am, I didn’t think we would even make it there at all. Yes, despite spending the entirety of the night before huddled up with my mother in a hospital bed designed for one, after having been discharged at 7am, we found ourselves with just enough time to make it home, wolf down some breakfast, and collect our cases along with the rest of the family (blissfully unaware and still in bed) and make it to the airport.
Situated near the centre of the Cyclades island complex and with a population of just 8,636 inhabitants, Tinos is not only famous amongst Greeks for the Church of , to which many pilgrims make the 800 metres journey from the ferry wharf to the church on their hands and knees as sign of devotion, but also for its 1000 artistic dovecotes, 50 active villages and co-existence of both Greek Orthodox and Roman Catholics.
With my brother’s girlfriend being Greek, this also meant that for the first time both sides of the family found itself together under one tavern roof, communicating through a wealth of hand gestures and languages, whilst sharing about twenty courses of some of the best food I have ever put my lips to. Communication problems aside, I was in salad heaven.
[Continued here: Finals, feta and a farewell to summer: PART 2]